Lost Things
by bluethursday
Summary: Tim gives his life to save Damians.


Summary: Tim gives his life to save Damians.

Warning: Character death.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Lost Things

There is a bomb in the basement of the Arkham.

It takes thirty two minutes from the basement of the facility to reach reach the roof, and another twelve to reach the exit. Damian has not seen the bomb.

Tim stills his breathing, "Leave brat, I'll disarm the explosives, if both of us are there we'll waste time arguing."

Damian sneers, "Tt. Very well Drake, you can have your little bomb."

Damian will be efficient he will leave as fast as he can, because despite all his talk he is a scared little boy in a madhouse. He does not belong here, and Tim has never been sane enough.

Waiting exactly three minutes, the time it takes for Damian to reach the second floor Tim takes off his gloves and begins the disarming process.

In seven more minutes and four seconds the fuse will blow. Tim will not be able walk out alive. At the very best Arkahm would lose two of it's bottom levels, long enough for Damian to get to higher ground, far away from the blast radius. The ground beneath his feet would shake, but he would be okay.

Tim knows, that if Damian had known, the little idiot would have been too proud, too stubborn to run. He knows that the brat would have tried to stay and Tim will not be responsible for the death of a child. Even one who tried to kill him.

Cutting two more wires he disables the third set. He's lucky, he thinks, that whoever set the bomb left enough room for Tim to work. The patients and doctors on the higher floors would have died instantly, if not for three little wires.

His mind keeps time, numb to what he's doing, it's as though he is separate from his hands, dextrous

fingers moving with patient ease. He knows this is suicide, or sacrifice or some stupid thing that will end in him dying for a group of deranged psychopaths and their doctors. Dying to save a Robin who hates his guts.

The little voice that sounds like his mother is disgusted by his lack of self preservation.

He knows that he can just barely limit the damage to the abandoned bottom floors. He can do nothing about the structural damage but by that point the youngest Robin will be halfway out the building, almost halfway. He knows that Damian is running as fast as he can.

He thinks of his last words and he smiles. His last cruelty, a bitter quirk of his lips cannot be repressed as he cuts two more wires.

He is about to die, so he thinks that he will permit himself this single act of selfishness. For the first time in his life Timothy Drake is going to ask for attention.

He knows his last words will be played over and over again and he does not want to cause his family pain but he is selfish, he wants to die without regret, so he will have this, and he will take it with him wherever he goes.

Two minutes until the fuse blows, he turns on his com.

Damian is making agitated grunting noises under his breath.

Tim smiles, all the way down in the cold dark cement room as he begins to speak. He forces his voice to be strong. He will not let it waver.

"Damian." He starts. Not Demon or brat or Robin. Damian. Tim does not use anything but code names on missions. This gives Damian pause. Something is wrong.

"I want you to listen." And the youngest Robin does even if he has to bury the indignant part of himself that does not want to listen just to be spiteful.

"And I want you to keep running, no matter what I say. Promise Damian, promise."

Something is very, very wrong.

Damian does not like how the words sound but they are not to be argued with. He does not say a thing. Tim takes that as consent.

"I wanted you to know that regardless of how we met, or how you think of me that you are loved Damian. You have always been loved habibi." Tim takes a deep breath as Damian stumbles in shock, this sounds like, this can't be-

"I want you to tell Bruce that I loved him, as well as Dick and Jason and Alfred. Tell Kon and Cassie and Bart and all the Titans that I loved them." Tim interrupts his though process.

Damian can not breathe, because no, and why and something is so very wrong, "Why, why are you saying these things." He growls and Tim is happy. For the first time he is able to tell his family what they mean to him. It is..freeing.

Damian is still running, his legs much like Tim's hands, moving without thought. Later he will berate himself over and over for interrupting Tim for wasting precious seconds but "You can not be serious Drake, stop this foolishness."

Tim closes his eyes, "Tell them I loved them, please, and that I forgave you and Jason for trying to kill me long ago even though you never asked and maybe never cared. It's for later, if you change your mind, its, I forgive you, for everything and I love you."

Damian screams, "Stop saying that, just, stop it, " But its too late and the floor beneath him shakes. Arkham city has lost two of its floors. Arkham has lost a Robin.

Damian falls to his knees.

….

Damian can taste it. The last time he saw Tim, the calm he had. He can't recall if there was anything wrong with elder. That much he knows. He can not recall if there was anything he could have done, anything he could have changed.

He is on his knees and Arkham is burning, but he can't bring himself to move until he can.

" _Keep running no matter what I say. Promise, Damian, promise."_

So he runs because he will not disgrace this sacrifice. He does not understand, because everything Drake had done, every action he had taken had never suggested that he would die for Damian. If anything it had suggested the contrary and Damian couldn't understand.

"_You are loved."_

How. How? He can not be, because he never knew. He never knew and Tim is dead and Damian will never get to say anything at all. No one is supposed to die for him. He is Robin and Robin saves people but Tim was Robin too, so where does that leave Damian?

He wonders how this is different. Once he had tried to kill Tim and Tim had died saving him. He wonders who Tim was that he missed this, the way Tim had loved him, perhaps without his consent, most certainly without his knowledge and he wonders how things could have been, could have been if he understood. He will never get the chance to try.

He runs straight out of the asylum, lungs burning.

Dick is waiting at the exit, his face a wide grin before he looks at Damian and sees him, for perhaps the first time. Damian is small, he is childlike and he is shaking, tears dripping from underneath his mask.

Gripping the front of Dick's uniform the youngest Robin begins to cry, silent trembling heaves that must have been exhausting. Dick grips his shoulders and tries to talk to him.

"Robin, Damian, what's wrong? What happened?Are you hurt?" Dicks hands check for bruises and lacerations but Damian bats at the rampant appendages, choking back sobs as he synchs up their coms and makes the last two minutes of conversation repeat.

Dick can hear the voices clearly, ringing in his ears.

"_I want you to listen."_

That's Tim, Dick knows that's Tim. Where is Tim? Oh, God he can't see Tim and Arkham had been bombed. Contrary to popular belief, Dick, is not stupid. He knows how to put things together.

"_And I want you to keep running, no matter what I say. Promise Damian, promise."_

Dick can't see Tim and Damian is crying.

"_I wanted you to know that regardless of how we met, or how you think of me that you are loved Damian. You have always been loved habibi."_

Oh. God. Dick can feel himself choke.

"_I want you to tell Bruce that I loved him, as well as Dick and Jason and Alfred. Tell Kon and Cassie and Bart and all the Titans that I loved them."_

Oh. God. No. Please no. Please.

"_Why, why are you saying these things. You can not be serious Drake, stop this foolishness."_

Damian's voice is an interruption to constant never ending pleading looping through Dick's consciousness. He has never wanted anyone to just shut up more than he has now, because Tim, he needs to hear Tim, he needs to know that everything is going to be okay.

"_Tell them I loved them, please, and that I forgave you and Jason for trying to kill me long ago even though you never asked and maybe never cared. It's for later, if you change your mind, its, I forgive you, for everything and I love you."_

Oh God no. Tim. Timmy, he cant-

"_Tell them I loved them."_

He knows, he knows beyond any measure of doubt that those are the last words Tim ever spoke. His little brother is dead.

His legs are weak and all he can do is pick Damian up and run, fast as he can, far away from Arkham. Far away from Tim.

"_Tell them I loved them."_

He needs, they need, to get home, because, because there's been a death in the family and, god, Tim, because _,_ he can't get the words out of his head_, and I love you too, so please, Tim, I love you, I love you, I love you, and please, _but they are useless impotent things that will never be heard by the one who needs to hear it most.


End file.
